King’s Wrath

by Fiona McIntosh

  “I’m embarrassed and disappointed to say it is,” Loethar replied. “I am Elka’s prisoner.”

  “She has wonderful breasts,” Janus said. “Forgive me,” he added, looking instantly contrite.

  “She does. You’re forgiven,” Loethar said.

  “Right, gentlemen,” Elka said, her tone chilly. “Shall we focus on the task at hand?”

  “I’d like to focus on your arse,” Janus remarked, looking at her with an expression of fresh mortification.

  Loethar laughed openly. “Marvelous!”

  “Janus, I’ll find a way to close your mouth even if I have to stitch your lips together,” Elka said sweetly.

  Janus pointed at her, his expression a mixture of remorse and defiance. “It comes on especially strong when I’m nervous and sober. You were warned.”

  She nodded. “That’s true, and I will bear the repercussions of my own decision. Can’t you try and concentrate on something else? Like your patient?”

  “This is not a good place to be doing an examination,” Janus remarked, looking around. “My hut—”

  “Is too dangerous,” Elka finished. “I’ll carry Loethar slightly higher up into those trees for coverage. We can’t go any higher, though. He has been suffering from the sickness of height and is barely recovered from one bout.”

  The doctor nodded. “I suffer the same myself.”

  “All right then. Let’s get to those trees.”

  Later, with the doctor finally sitting back on the ground and after much peering and prodding by him and cursing by Loethar, Janus took a deep breath. “All right. We have bones to set, cuts to stitch and bruises that can use some unguent.”

  “Do you need my help?”

  “Not really. You’re a distraction for my foul mouth.” She couldn’t help but smile. “And it’s hard enough concentrating when I know who I’m working on. How has it come about that I am repairing our emperor?”

  Elka smiled. “It’s a long story,” she said, just as Loethar said the same thing. She threw an amused glance at him, which he returned.

  “Well, you can tell me all about it in between more curses because what I’m about to do is not going to be without discomfort,” Janus said to Loethar.

  “I understand.”

  Janus glanced at Elka. “Just light me a fire and get some water on to boil. I shall take it from there. I want to feel your tits on my—”

  And to the roar of Loethar’s amusement, Elka stomped away to find kindling.

  Chapter Ten

  They’d been heading north since they began walking. It was getting cooler the higher they went but it was still relatively mild—enough that Evie had rolled up her cloak and tied it to hang at her side. She felt ridiculous in this garb but the more she looked around at this landscape, the more foreign it all felt. The growing pit in her stomach had begun to assure her that she was nowhere close to anything familiar.

  Corbel, as he now insisted she call him, looked anything but awkward. In fact, he seemed to stand even taller than she recalled and was that a slight swagger in his walk? Where was the withdrawn, closed individual she had loved all these anni? Now there was a glint in his eyes and a smile playing constantly at the corner of his lips. He was happy, Evie realized, and almost childish in his excitement, pointing out this plant or that landscape, none of it of any interest to her.

  She was still trying to come to terms with the alienation she was feeling, not to mention the anger at him as much as fear. And yet instead of explaining he insisted they walk.

  “Reg!”

  “Corbel,” he replied.

  She took a breath to ensure her words came out calmly. “Corbel, where exactly are we going? And why exactly am I here?”

  “I’ve tried to explain—”

  “Except you’ve explained nothing,” she huffed, catching up with him. “Slow down. I can’t walk as fast as you.”

  He halved his long stride with obvious effort. “I wish there could have been a better way to ease you back into your world.”

  “My world?” she hurled at him, her voice full of accusation. “My world is the city I belong in, where I’m a healer and everything makes sense.”

  Corbel stopped. “Nothing made sense! Nothing. And you know it. You were the misfit there. You said it often enough. The world you belong to, Evie, is here. It was called Denova and your place of belonging is Penraven. And yes, you are still a healer.”

  “Have you any idea how this feels?” she begged.

  He gazed at her for several moments and she saw only pain in his expression. Finally, he nodded. “I do. I have lived with that confusion and despair every minute of the last twenty anni, looking after you in a strange land.”

  She hadn’t expected that. She bit back on the ready retort as she considered his words . . . “I . . . I haven’t considered it from that point of view. I’m trying to wrap my mind around the notion that this is where you come from. Rationality and science is my life. Magic has no place.”

  “Really?” he asked. “Search your heart, Evie, and perhaps you can privately call yourself a liar. I won’t.”

  She glared at him. “That’s a ridiculous accusation.”

  “Is it?” He shrugged. “You can’t keep pretending what you did every day to save lives was science. Both of us know that’s a lie. Perhaps you couldn’t explain the strange skill you have to heal people, but I can assure you, Evie, it wasn’t all scientific training. I’m taking you to a place where you can ask all the questions you need and you will get a far better insight than I can provide.”

  “Where? To the man you call Sergius?”

  He shook his head. “He told me never to look for him should I ever bring you back. He made me promise that when I came back I would first take you to meet someone called the Qirin.”

  Her mistrust deepened. “Who and what is the Qirin?”

  Corbel shrugged. “I don’t know. But I suppose we shall soon find out.”

  “Corbel, I’m tired.”

  “It’s not far and I promise you a roof over your head tonight, perhaps even a bath.”

  She felt deeply weary. “I admit that is a seductive promise.”

  He began walking again. “There,” he said, as she clambered up beside him.

  Her gaze narrowed as she focused on the buildings in the distance, nestling among an almost perfect crescent of rocky outcrops. “It’s beautiful.”

  “The mountains in the background are called Lo’s Teeth.”

  “They look daunting.”

  “They are. I’ve never been further north than this region. But people called the Davarigons do live in the mountains.”

  She shook her head in wonder. “Mountain dwellers?” She shook her head again. “I can’t—”

  “I know, Evie. I really do understand how hard this is. Please don’t cry.”

  She bit her trembling lip. “I’m sorry. This is all so impossible to calculate.”

  “Don’t calculate. Analyze none of it. Nothing will make sense. If you can accept that it’s not worth wasting the energy trying to understand but instead just try to blend in as best you can, I promise you that you will adapt.”

  “Yes, but what if I don’t want to?” she snapped.

  Corbel sighed silently but she saw his frustration. “Evie, I don’t want to keep saying this because it sounds as though I’m the villain here, but you have no choice. I can’t say it any plainer. Your pathway was mapped out a long time ago. Your father chose it. He also chose mine, to protect you until you could return to the land of your birth.”

  She nodded, swallowed a soft sob of her own frustration and confusion. His voice was so tender. She had never questioned his friendship or his honesty. Evie lifted her chin and made a silent promise that she would trust Corbel de Vis until this nightmare ended. She had to believe it would, even though this place he called Denova certainly looked and felt real enough.

  Evie sniffed. “So what is this place you’re taking me toward?”


  The anxiety in her friend’s eyes lessened and she saw a sense of relief relax his expression. He had obviously thought she was going to crack. Grinning crookedly, he said, “A convent. There you will have your bath and I hope there is where you will find some answers. A word of warning,” he cautioned. “If we’re going to blend in, we both need to leave our most recent lives behind. Forget the hospital, Evie, forget everything you know. In order for you to survive, I need you to trust me and do your utmost to avoid all mention of what has gone before for you. Today is the first day of your life.”

  “To survive? That sounds scary.”

  He nodded. “We should be scared. There are people who wish you dead.”

  She looked at him, aghast. “And still you brought me here?”

  Corbel looked back at her sadly. “I take some comfort that you’re at least acknowledging that you are here. But I don’t know how to answer your question. I had no choice. I am the son of Regor de Vis and my duty is to the Crown of Penraven, and to the Valisars.”

  “And what about me?”

  He gave a sad smile. “I’m fulfilling my duty, Evie. You are a Valisar.”

  “So I’m just a duty now. A chore to be done?” She watched his eyes flash with pain but for once she felt no guilt; her confusion demanded more answers.

  “Don’t ever think that,” he hurried to say. “I have loved you as . . .” He appeared flummoxed. “I care about you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.”

  She nodded, hating to see her favorite person looking so tongue-tied. Reg had never been anything but a rock in her life. If she were honest she couldn’t imagine her life without him in it. “I love you too,” she said without hesitation, surprised when he glanced at her with strange sorrow.

  “You say it so easily,” he replied, looking away.

  “Because I mean it. I only hesitate if I’m telling a lie.”

  “I know,” he said softly. Clearing his throat, he continued more curtly, “If I’m going to keep you safe, you must listen to what I say and follow my lead in all things. There is no technology here. None at all. But there is magic, as you’ve discovered for yourself. I know it all sounds like a confusing dream but I stress again, this is your new reality. You must . . .”

  “Acclimatize?”

  “Yes, but don’t use words like that again.”

  Evie sighed. “Reg . . . I’m tired of arguing with you. All right, I’ll try to speak ‘plain Denovian.’ ”

  He found a smile. “It’s in your soul. Hunt it down. You know how to do this.”

  She looked at the impressive stone building as they slowed on their approach and shook her head.

  Just as she fell into step alongside Reg, vowing to try very hard to acclimatize as her friend needed, three men rounded the bend in the path they had been following.

  “Aye, aye, what have we here?” the eldest of the trio asked.

  “Morning,” Corbel said, surprising Evie at how cheerful he could sound. “All well with you?”

  “Now it is,” the youngest said. He had a black tooth at the front of his mouth and a smile that suggested he was a few strides short of a span.

  Evie felt a tremor of alarm.

  Corbel sensed the danger immediately. Years of training in his youth alongside his father and then two decades on the streets of a city in the other world had taught him plenty about people. And he’d learned that one could tell a great deal about a man long before he spoke. And Corbel was reading only the most dangerous of language from the silent newcomer whose gaze had yet to alight on him; so far his eyes were only for Evie.

  “Morning,” Corbel repeated, deliberately slowing, loading his tone with lightness and cheer but all the while using the time to gauge what he was up against.

  The black-toothed one was gormless enough not to trouble Corbel. The elder one who spoke first looked wiry and strong but he was small, with a limp, and carried only a dagger at his belt. It was the middle fellow who troubled Corbel the most. Silent, powerfully built and clearly with mischief on his mind, he wore a sword on his hip and moved like a fighter.

  Evie had paused, he noticed, presumably sensing the man’s interest. He stepped slightly ahead of her to shield her.

  “Tasty lady,” said Blacktooth, leering around him at Evie before grinning stupidly at his companions.

  Corbel raised a hand. “We want no trouble here.”

  “Forgive our Clem, he has no manners at all,” the dangerous one said.

  The man’s voice was mellow, almost silky, but Corbel wasn’t fooled. “We don’t want trouble either.”

  “None from her, anyway,” Clem said and now the older man grinned.

  “This is a lonely track for travelers,” the dangerous man continued.

  “Yes it is,” Corbel admitted. “But we are taking the shortest route to the convent.” He shrugged, noting as he did so that the man’s hand was resting easily on the pommel of his sword. “How about yourselves?”

  “On our way to Francham.”

  “Francham? You have a long walk ahead,” Corbel remarked, taking note that it wasn’t the old man’s leg that was injured; it was his hips, if he wasn’t mistaken. “No horses?”

  “Lost them,” Blacktooth chimed in, chortling. That won a glare from their leader.

  “Lost them?” Corbel repeated, using the time to take in his immediate surrounds.

  The leader sighed. “An unwise gamble.”

  Corbel gave a soft shrug as though he understood it was none of his business. “Well, we must continue. Come, my love.”

  “Is this your wife?” the man asked.

  “Er, yes. We are newly wed.”

  “On our way to pay a tithe to the convent,” Evie piped up, surprising everyone, most of all Corbel. “My father insisted,” she added with a shy smile. “Well,” she said, “nice to meet you. Safe travels.” She took a step forward.

  “Now what is a pretty young thing like you doing marrying a rough-looking older man, I wonder?”

  Corbel stepped between Evie and the stranger, all of his senses on high alert. The older man was reaching for his dagger and the younger one had only dopey amusement in his eyes, as though he’d witnessed similar scenes previously.

  “I thought you wanted no trouble,” the stranger remarked, still appearing loose limbed and relaxed.

  “I still want no trouble,” Corbel replied, a new hint of warning in his tone.

  “Then why this confrontation?”

  “Stranger, my wife and I just want to continue to the convent. We have no money worth stealing.”

  “Other than the tithe,” the man corrected.

  “Other than the tithe,” Corbel repeated, “which I fully intend to pay to the convent and not to bandits.”

  The man and his elder companion feigned shock. “Did you hear that, Barro?” the older man said. “He reckons we’re thieves.”

  “I heard it,” the dangerous one drawled, and blinked slowly.

  Corbel tensed and pushed Evie back. “Corbel!” she murmured, anxious, as the ring of a sword being lifted from its scabbard sounded harshly in the peace of the countryside.

  “Hush, now, Evie,” he said, keeping his voice low and calm. “These men intend us harm.”

  “It didn’t have to be like this,” the stranger said. “I just want your money but Clem here will probably settle for a grope between your wife’s legs.”

  Evie made a gagging sound of revulsion. “Go fu—”

  “Evie! Hush,” Corbel cautioned, not once taking his eyes from the sword that was now being weighted in his opponent’s hand.

  “What a pity it had to come to this,” the man remarked casually. His companions sniggered.

  “I have no time for thieves,” Corbel warned.

  “Even when they are carrying weapons and you have none?” the man asked, surprised.

  “Even then,” Corbel replied.

  “Corb—”

  “I said quiet, Evie. There is no further need for u
s to be civil,” he cautioned, silently measuring the distance between himself and the old fellow.

  “Actually, I prefer civility when I’m working. There’s really no need for harm,” the leader assured. “I simply want your purse. What my companions require is their own business.”

  The old man laughed and grabbed his crotch. This sent the youngest one into peals of shared laughter, his mouth wide open and showing more ruined teeth.

  “My wife is not for your companions’ sport and my purse is my own.”

  The man sighed. “Don’t make me take it from you. It might cost you more than money.”

  “Don’t make me have to stop you,” Corbel said, his voice very quiet. His calm made the stranger hesitate momentarily, but his companions hardly registered the change.

  “Let’s cut off his bollocks, Barro,” Blacktooth said, saliva forming at the corners of his mouth. “Then he can’t fuck his wife again.”

  “We’ll have to do it for him,” the older one tittered.

  “You’ll have to forgive my fellow travelers, sir. As you can tell, they have no refinement.”

  “I forgive them nothing,” Corbel said, his voice so cold it was now brittle.

  The man shifted his gaze back to Evie. “Your husband is courageous, madam. And he speaks like a noble. I think I understand your attraction to him.”

  Corbel was glad to note that Evie remained silent. The man smiled, shifted his weight, and Corbel didn’t wait for him to make the first move. Instead, he bent sideways and kicked out suddenly with his leg, smashing his foot into the old man’s hip. The sound of a bone breaking in the old man’s skeleton was chilling and both Evie and the victim shrieked in tandem. But Corbel heeded neither. He had already regained his balance and crouched, spinning low and kicking Blacktooth’s legs out from under him. He was vaguely aware of the old fellow writhing on the ground and very aware of Barro raising his sword to strike.

  In a fluid move that was already in motion while he was spinning, Corbel retrieved the hidden blades stored vertically along the sides of his ribs. One quickly found its way into Blacktooth’s throat, and the young man began gurgling helplessly as Corbel straightened and leaped away from Barro’s sword in the space of the blink of an eye.